The Chef From the Apocalypse Enters the Food Industry - Chapter 6

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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Chapter 6. False Coexistence
Late evening.
Just because business had ended didn’t mean my work was finished.
Snip, snip. Snip.
I carefully cultivated my ingredients with the same devotion one might show a garden.
Green onions and bean sprouts.
Both were relatively easy crops to grow. Still, they required my attention.
“Grow well. Ingredient Enhancement.”
[Skill 【Ingredient Enhancement】 is activated.]
[The flavor of ingredients 【Green Onions】 and 【Bean Sprouts】 is enhanced.]
Care combined with skill.
Together, both ensured I succeeded in cultivating perfect ingredients.
I simply needed to harvest the mature ones at the right time.
After harvesting came preparation.
During the time left after prep work, I had to trim the braised garlic and green onions that had run low.
Busy work.
Before long, late night arrived.
Even working late into the evening, my spirits never flagged. If anything, I felt wonderful.
“Today again, those two came holding hands tightly.”
An elderly couple who stood out distinctly among my regulars.
Whatever good fortune had blessed them today, they’d arrived with their hands clasped together.
The smile etched into the deep wrinkles around their eyes looked happier than ever.
They were the kind of people who warmed your heart just to look at them.
Customers who gave me strength.
“Hmm. I think the seasoning was a bit too strong for them today.”
Because of that, my resolve only deepened.
I wanted to serve them even more satisfying food.
Though they seemed content now, the ramen’s base seasoning had tasted too intense.
“I should make the salt level more delicate. But I can’t let the flavor become too light either…”
Lighter salt while maintaining the depth of taste.
I pondered the solution carefully.
“Ah! I need to add umami. What if I try dried shrimp? That’s perfect.”
And so I conceived of a new ingredient.
Dried shrimp.
A fine ingredient that could be used in place of conventional seasoning.
In truth, the broth made from dried shrimp was essentially seasoning itself.
But as a natural seasoning, I could give it higher marks.
Either way, it was good.
Nothing brought me more joy than satisfying the customers who came to me.
‘If I’m going to use dried shrimp, I’ll need to head to the Market at dawn to buy some.’
My workload increased as a result.
Still, I chose to think positively about it.
‘While I’m at the Market, I should find something that cat-like bastard would be satisfied with. Sausage is boring. Hmm… what would he like?’
For me, going to the Market was also an opportunity to find better ingredients.
It was something that made me feel good.
My past life—I only saw the Market when it was completely empty.
The current Market was different, filled to the brim with fresh ingredients.
Just seeing the Market like this made me feel satisfied.
Others might think it pathetic.
‘But they’d never say that if they’d survived the apocalypse.’
The memories of my past life were making these moments incredibly happy.
It was a form of comparison, but who could blame me for comparing my own experiences?
‘As long as I’m happy, that’s all that matters.’
To gain that kind of joy, there was still work to be done.
Specifically, reserving a spot.
Unlike the Truck Zone spot I’d reserved for a month in advance, the Table area required reservations on a case-by-case basis.
It was annoying to make reservations every time, but it was unavoidable.
The reservation units were either monthly or daily, so to align the Table with the Truck schedule, I had to make individual reservations for the remaining days.
It was tedious because of that.
But I only had to endure this for one more week.
After that, I’d be able to match the reservation dates with the Truck Zone location.
Click. Click.
I entered the reservation page for that purpose.
Looking at it, my eyes widened in surprise.
“What…?”
All the spots were completely booked.
Just the spots around me.
* * *
‘This feels off.’
I left for the Market at dawn.
Even at that moment, yesterday’s incident still haunted me.
This wasn’t my first time experiencing something like this.
‘Another Food Truck had parked next to me before.’
Somehow, word had spread that my Truck was doing great business.
There had been several Trucks that reserved spots next to mine, trying to split customers by being close by.
It had no effect.
‘All the customers came to my place anyway.’
They just wasted their time. Once the gap in performance became obvious, those people gradually disappeared.
They realized that pointless efforts only led to losses.
After that, such incidents never happened again.
‘Perhaps new trucks have come to do business. I’d rather it be something like that.’
Still, a new food truck would have been fine.
I welcome anyone attempting to start a food truck business for the first time.
Having new neighbors isn’t bad either.
The problem is when it’s something else entirely.
“Thank you.”
“Today you’re not going to look at any new ingredients? You’re leaving in such a hurry?”
“I have something to take care of.”
“Is that so? Then go on. See you again!”
“Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I quickly left the market to verify my suspicions.
The market and the Food Truck Zone were close to each other.
‘Something feels off today. Really off.’
My heart pounded harder as I drew closer.
I had a bad feeling about this.
If it were someone in the same business, I could understand. But if it’s something else, that’s a problem.
‘I have a feeling I won’t be able to hold back.’
It had been quite a while since I felt this kind of heat rising within me.
Thump-thump-
I picked up my pace.
Arriving at the Food Truck Zone, I could only let out a heavy sigh.
“Ha… My expectations were spot on.”
My suspicion had become reality.
* * *
“Hey there! You’re late…?”
That massive frame was casually waving at me.
It was Bang, the owner. The owner of the Ramen Restaurant nearby, as I would later learn.
He was known as a local gourmet spot, and the guy had quite the arrogant reputation around here.
He greeted me warmly, holding something in one arm.
It was almost amusing how he switched from informal speech to formal speech mid-sentence.
But looking at what he’d lined up beside him, I couldn’t even laugh.
“What are those things?”
“Ah. These?”
“These?”
“No, I mean these? Can’t you tell just by looking?”
Everything he’d lined up around him were sandwich boards.
[Budu Ramen] [Gaya Sushi] [Chamsiru] [Wang Flower]…
I wondered where these sandwich boards had come from.
I recognized many of the names.
‘Those are the names of shops in the Gourmet Alley, aren’t they?’
First on my list was the ramen restaurant run by the owner of that room—the Ramen Restaurant.
I’d heard the sashimi restaurant was operated by the Merchant Association chairman.
Wang Flower’s was a set-meal restaurant, and Cham Siru was a rice cake shop—both were said to be the old guard of this place.
The other shops scattered around them were similar establishments.
About ten storefront signs from all these places.
They were lined up in various reserved spots near my shop, with maps of the Gourmet Alley and store information packed in between.
‘Wow, they really put some thought into this, huh?’
By this point, I could grasp the situation.
Still, I should confirm it properly.
I held back my burning curiosity and asked.
“What is all this?”
“What do you mean? This is all for mutual prosperity, you know. Ahem.”
“Mutual prosperity?”
“That’s right! Mutual prosperity! I mean, it’s funny—these gourmet restaurants are struggling because of the Food Truck Zone, paying rent and all, so their business isn’t going well, right…?”
“I heard only the ramen restaurant isn’t doing well. Though I don’t know who the owner is.”
“That’s because of who…!! Ahem. Anyway, I thought I should revitalize the alley and provide information, so I pitched the idea to my Merchant Association!”
“So these storefront signs are that idea, is that it?”
“Exactly…!”
Mutual prosperity, he said.
I heard something unexpected.
Had I incited the Merchant Association?
The owner seemed triumphant, thinking he’d seized victory.
“Huh… Is that what you call mutual prosperity? What are you saying the Food Truck Zone should do?”
“Isn’t the Food Truck Zone itself the problem?”
“We all have proper permits.”
“Permits don’t matter. You need to open a proper shop and do business. This isn’t right. I don’t even consider this a shop. I can’t!”
“If you want to argue that, go to the district office. And honestly, the rent here isn’t that different from the Gourmet Alley, is it?”
“Is the deposit the same? Anyway, I don’t care about that! Our Gourmet Alley needs to thrive too. Don’t you think!?”
The owner wasn’t listening to reason.
If he were the type to listen to words, he wouldn’t be doing this.
He deliberately moved the signs around, arranging them here and there.
“Anyway, I’ve finished the installation, so I’m going. Do your work. Fighting hard today too!”
“…Yeah.”
He came close to me while I was preparing, said his goodbye, and left. Like a returning general.
* * *
Not long after the owner left.
The Coffee Truck Owner, who had been preparing for business in the distance, came over.
He held a warm cup of coffee in one hand.
“Geez. Look at what he’s doing over there. Sigh… He’s at it again.”
“Has he done this before?”
“That’s right. When food trucks were trending, business was booming. We had similar interference back then too.”
“So this isn’t a first offense—it’s habitual harassment?”
“Exactly. Though it wasn’t this severe before… Looks like they’re really committed this time.”
“Those sandwich boards are what caused it?”
“Yeah, something like that. Because of that incident back then, we even got operating hour restrictions.”
“Wow… this has quite the history?”
“That’s why. They didn’t bother us when business was slow, but now they’re doing this. Ugh. How am I supposed to handle this.”
The Coffee Truck Owner’s face, as he looked at me with pity, was clearly etched with worry.
Even now, it’s obvious he brought me coffee specifically because he was concerned about me.
As if to say I should drink something warm and calm my mind.
‘I’m fine though….’
Actually, I’m the one worried about the Coffee Truck Owner.
Even if my food truck loses tables, it’s certain I’ll still have a full house of customers.
The problem is the Coffee Truck Owner.
The sandwich boards they’d set up were subtly blocking his coffee truck.
Business was bound to suffer.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Me? I don’t think I’ll be fine… If they leave it like this, I’ll definitely lose business. Ugh.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Well, don’t worry about it. What can I do. We just have to endure this kind of territorial harassment. When we get our own shop, let’s promise not to do this.”
…My own shop.
Just thinking about it felt wonderful.
But today, it was such a bittersweet word.
“We definitely should.”
“Anyway, what do we do about this?”
“Hmm….”
What should I do? I needed to find a solution.
As I pondered the method, the Coffee Truck Owner kept talking about this and that.
It was clear he was trying to soothe his aching heart with words.
‘He must be burning inside.’
As I listened quietly and thought about it.
“Is there even a way? Once they take up space like this, there’s really no solution, right? I can’t install more tables. And I can’t exactly sell ramen as takeout like coffee, can I?”
“!!!!”
The solution was closer than I thought.
“Could I borrow some coffee beans from you?”
“Huh?”
First, the answer was coffee beans.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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